Sparklings
by Autaria
Summary: The most financially powerful couple in the whole of Cybertron, Megatron and Optimus Prime, have finally decided to adopt sparklings. No plot, full of sparkling fluff and drabbles. Warning for Optimus/Megatron slash.
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Hey there! I just felt the need to write something with lots of sparklings in it and some Megatron x Optimus :) So here it is! Enjoy, and R&R please? Thank you :)

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Sparklings had already become a necessity. Cybertron's population was dwindling rapidly. The Youth Sectors had grown inactive. Most femmes were unwilling to carry, and so the responsibility had fallen on the mechs of Cybertron. The medical facilities were soon filled with carrying mechs, but even that wasn't enough to restore the decreasing population.

Orphan sparklings were currently the most valuable ones in the whole of the planet, with femmes and mechs lining up to the Youth Sectors by the thousands to adopt. Couples – whether femme and femme, femme and mech, or mech and mech, were requesting potential adoptive sparklings by the dozen. Forms were cluttered all over the Adoption Sectors' clerks' desks. Appointments where couples could come and choose the sparklings they wanted were made daily, sometimes as many as fifty in a single orn.

Most of these couples had no intention to carry a sparkling by themselves, and so sought for unwanted sparklings that were already created by others. Most of the orphaned sparklings were brought to loving and nurturing homes, where both foster Creators loved and cared for them.

A vorn later, the demand for orphaned sparklings subsided, and it was only then did one of the most financially powerful couples on Cybertron decide to head to the Youth Sectors to scout for sparklings.

Optimus Prime had always wanted to have a sparkling – several sparklings, in fact, but was unwilling to carry, being uncomfortable with it in the first place. Siring a couple of sparklings would be exciting, especially with Megatron as his sparkmate. The young couple had always wanted a family of their own, and being financially sufficient meant that they could afford to support a large family. Both had agreed to adopting about six sparklings.

"Oh, this one's adorable!" Optimus cooed at the tiny sparkling, who was probably half the size of its counterparts. The yellow sparkling gazed up at the large mech with its blue optics, warbled happily, and then stood up slowly, tottering over to the Prime's open arms, and collapsing in them with a small chirp. Optimus picked the sparkling up, rocking it gently, and looked over to Megatron, who was peering over his shoulder at the tiny sparkling. "I think I like this one. What's his name?"

"Bumblebee," the Eradicon-on-duty supplied helpfully. This Eradicon had been assigned to help Optimus and Megatron select the sparklings they wanted, and he held a large datapad in one hand, tapping the buttons on-screen with his thumb to access the youngling's file. "He was found near the waste receptacles on the outskirts of Iacon. He was nearly dead when he was brought back here, but we managed to nurse him back to health. He's a little more fragile than most sparklings, though. Raising him will take a lot of time and effort, sir. I don't think you'll want him."

"Oh, but I do," Optimus countered, optics still locked onto the small one in his servos, nuzzling against his chest plates. Bumblebee was downright adorable. Turning to his mate, he nodded to the sparkling nestled in his arms. "What do you think?"

Megatron was smiling, dentas bared. "I think he's all right."

"So that's the last sparkling you want," the Eradicon murmured, ticking off something on his datapad. "If you'll excuse me, Sirs, I'll go prepare the necessary paperwork for the six sparklings you've chosen."

Megatron nodded absentmindedly, watching Optimus run a finger down the sparkling's cheek plating, causing Bumblebee to chirp happily and reach out for his soon-to-be foster creator. Latching onto the Prime's chest plates, the youngling purred softly before yawning, burrowing his tiny helm on the spot right in front of Optimus' spark. Already Bumblebee had taken a liking to his the Prime and his mate. Megatron marveled at the scene, noticing how contrasting his sparkmate's bulked frame was compared to the sparkling's tiny protoform.

Bumblebee's optics fluttered close, and his tiny clenched fists rested against his equally proportionate chest plating.

"I can't believe we're going to be creators," Megatron murmured, staring at the sparkling in his sparkmate's arms.

"Creators of _six _sparklings," Optimus chuckled. "Ironhide, Breakdown, Knock Out, Ratchet, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee," he recited, listing out the names of all the sparklings they had seen that day and had decided to adopt. "Just think, we'll be able to bring all of them today. We can have a family today, Megatron. You've always wanted sparklings."

"So have you," Megatron retorted, but brought his olfactory sensor closer to Optimus' cheek plating, and nuzzled his sparkmate.

"And there will be a Pit lot of paperwork for us to settle with the Youth Sector social workers, but it'll be all worth it in the end," Optimus added, watching as Bumblebee slumbered in his servos.

Megatron nodded silently, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the sparkling.

* * *

"Sire!" Something tugged on Megatron's arm.

The large mech groaned, optics still shuttered, lying outstretched on the berth. He did not want to wake up, he was exhausted. Turning away from the source of the noise, he found himself possessively resting his arm over Optimus' chassis, pulling the other recharging mech closer to him, using the Prime as some sort of a heat source. "Go 'way."

"Sire!" The voice became impatient, and something scaled Megatron's back, and came to sit in between the two sparkmates. "Sire, wake up!"

"Five more minutes," Optimus groused, and snuggled closer into Megatron's embrace, optical ridges furrowing.

"Sire!"

"All right, all right, I'm up," Megatron yawned, a large servo reaching to rub his optics as he sat up. Almost immediately he could feel the tiny, heated frame of a sparkling scurry onto his thigh plates, reaching up to his foster creator. Megatron picked the youngling up, cradling him against his chest plates as he felt Optimus stir beside him. "Ratchet, I thought I told you that you have to learn to recharge by yourself. You're a big 'bot now."

"Nightmare," Ratchet whimpered, by way of explanation, and buried himself into Megatron's chest plates. In his peripheral vision, Megatron could see his sparkmate sitting up beside him on the berth and leaning against the headboard, optics flickering dimly as the Prime watched his sparkmate tend to their adopted sparkling. A quick check on his internal chronometer confirmed that it was about two in the morning, and Megatron had no desire to be kept awake at such an un-Primus-like hour.

"All right, all right," he mumbled, rocking the red-and-white sparkling gently. "Maybe you can recharge with us for tonight. But just this once."

Ratchet nodded, leaning his helm against Megatron's chassis, chirping softly.

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**A/N: **This was somewhat of a drabble, and I'm not so sure what will come out of it, so if you could just drop an idea in the review section it would be much appreciated :) Thank you!


	2. Day 1: The Pancake Mishap

**A/N: **Next chapter of Sparklings finally out! :) This'll be like a diary of sorts. MOP pairings are really the bomb okay okay okayyy once again please remember to read and review! :) Reviews make me so happy! :)

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"So..what's all this about?"

"It's a scrapbook, see?" Megatron waved an idle servo over the Cybertronian-sized book. "We paste photos of our daily lives, write descriptions and short summaries of our orn on the side of the page, and add many other little trinkets onto the page. That's why it's called a _scrap_book. For example, if we were to go to catch a show of some sort, we'd paste the ticket stub right here, in the middle of the page. Add a photo here, glue some glow-in-the-dark stars around the border, plus some ribbon, it'll make a very nice scrapbook. We can show it to the sparklings when they're out of their third protoform and get more storage capacity in their CPUs."

"It's got only thirty pages, Megatron."

"Enough for a whole Earthen groon of fun with the family, wouldn't you say so?"

Prime's optics brightened, and the plates around his mouth crinkled, unable to keep the smile hidden any longer. "So – you bought this for our anniversary," he murmured, thumbing the intricate design on the top of the hardcover book. "And I'm supposed to do the scrapbooking."

"We can do it together. And yeah, it's for our anniversary."

"You bought something for the entire family? Hey, the last time I remembered, the sparklings have never gotten bonded. And I thought I've hinted to you throughout the week that I wanted rust sticks?" Optimus' smile widened to the point that his gleaming dentals were easily seen in the late morning sunlight, and he looked up to see his sparkmate's reaction. The Prime breathed a short laugh, to let Megatron know he was just joking. "Next time I'll say it directly – I want rust sticks."

"You don't like it?" Megatron pulled a face. It earned him a playful smack on the nose, and Prime doubled over in laughter at his bonded's facial expression.

"Of course I do, idiot. Anyway, since you didn't get me what I wanted, I decided to get _you _what I wanted for our anniversary gift." A beautifully-wrapped box of rust sticks was carelessly dropped into Megatron's lap.

Megatron studied the box, Prime anxiously waiting his reaction as his mate turned the gift-wrapped box over and over again, scanning the labels and the neatly servo-written message that came on the box.

Optimus' optics widened in surprise when dermas were forced down on his, the kiss deepening when he was pushed back onto the berth, against the helmboard. He relaxed, optics shuttering as he gave himself up to the ministrations of his bonded, letting the familiar touches soothe him. He let Megatron's servos roam over his body, bucking each time his bonded came too near his concealed interface panel.

"Sire?"

Both mechs sat up almost immediately, servos withdrawn and fidgeting uncomfortably. Megatron's optical ridges frowned when the source of his disturbance turned out to be all six of his sparklings, standing in the doorway, childishly peering up into their foster Creators with huge, twinkling optics. It was thankful that he hadn't pried his bonded's interface panel apart when the sparklings had arrived – they could have been scarred for the rest of their lifespan. Ironhide appeared undisturbed, smiling even, as the pitch black sparkling looked up at his foster Sire and Carrier, while Bumblebee pulled a 'grossed-out' face, sticking out his glossa adorably as he squeezed his optics shut. "Sire, that's gross!"

"I thought I told the lot of you to knock," Megatron frowned, but reached out to Knock Out, the nearest sparkling, and swept him up into his servos. The sparkling chirped happily, clicking a short laugh before burying his helm into Megatron's broad chest plates.

There was a silent "One, two, three" by Ratchet, before all the sparklings rushed forward, holding up a large, messily wrapped box. "Happy anniversary!"

"Wow," Megatron vented a laugh, stealing a glance at his sparkmate before lifting the box out of his Creations' servos. Optimus crawled to the edge of the berth, and settled himself there, picking up the sparklings one by one and letting them clamber all over his frame as Megatron untied the frayed ribbons and the tore off the wrapping paper. There was even residual glue on the exposed sheets, but Megatron chose to ignore that. The papers tore apart to reveal a surprisingly intact blue box, opening up at Megatron's requesting touch to reveal a stack of colored papers, each one with something drawn on them.

Optimus' impatient servo slid into the box, lifting up the first sheet of paper. On the processed wood was a messily crayoned picture of two grown mechs hugging each other, surrounded by a group of six sparklings. Bulkhead's signature was signed with a flourish at the bottom, the sparkling chirping happily and pointing to his adopted Creators when he realized that his drawing was in Optimus' servo. The drawing was not impeccably done – Bulkhead had coloured out of the lines, as any normal sparkling his age would have, and there was sparkly glitter glued to the edges of the paper sloppily. Red and blue carbon flakes detailed his colorful armor, while Megatron's silver protoform was outlined with a pencil and filled out with grey paint. Not exactly a piece that one would find in museums, but, nevertheless…

Optimus loved it.

Laying a gentle kiss on his Creation, the Prime set Bulkhead down before going through the contents of the box with his sparkmate.

* * *

"Oh, dear," Megatron sighed, the moment he stepped into the kitchen area. "Okay, what's going on here?"

Every mech in the room started talking and clicking at once, and Megatron found himself pinching the space in between his optics to temper down the oncoming processor ache. "All right," he exclaimed, in a slightly higher decibel this time, and all six of the adopted sparklings quieted immediately. "Maybe you could answer some questions I am having pertaining to this situation. Number one – why does your Creator have a bowl on his helm?"

"Breakdown wanted to make pancakes," Knock Out scowled. All six sparklings had been of the same age, but Knock Out seemed to be the one who had the largest cranial capacity and had matured the most since being adopted two vorns ago. Each sparkling was currently three vorns old, but this was barely the human equivalent of two weeks. Not all of their adopted creations had gained the ability to speak yet, but both foster creators could tell what they meant most of the time, thankfully.

"I slipped," Optimus' vocalizer was muffled beneath the helm-sized bowl, as he sat on the floor, collapsed against the cupboards in the most awkward position possible. His legs were spread-eagled, while his right servo held a mixing spoon and the other, a chirping Bulkhead.

"How long have you been at it?" Megatron set down the datapad he had in servo on the kitchen counter before picking up Ironhide, who was closest to him. The dark-coloured sparkling clicked musically as Megatron settled him in his arms, dusting off some white powder that had stuck to the mechling's armor plates. "And what is this stuff that's tainting Ironhide's armor?"

"Two hours, flour," Optimus spluttered, answering the questions respectively as he used a flour-covered servo to pull the mixing bowl off his helm.

"Breakdown, of all things, did it have to be pancakes?" Megatron sighed, pulling said sparkling off from where he was perched precariously on the countertop. Nuzzling his adopted creation, who squealed in delight at being shown affection from his creator, the mechling was seated next to Ironhide in Megatron's arms.

Raising six sparklings at once had proven to be challenging, but the rewards were plenty. Megatron couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy – not since Optimus had agreed to be his bonded. He also could not remember the last time had had this many processor aches. Sparklings demanded attention, cuddling and feeding. He did not mind it, but there was much work to be done as well. The couple refused to get someone who could look after the sparklings on their behalf, insisting to personally look after each sparkling's wellbeing.

Bumblebee was a fragile sparkling – prone to viruses and fluxes. Megatron had woken up many times in the middle of the night-cycle to see that Bumblebee was at his lap, sniffling because of a bad flux. Optimus, being the soft spark that he was, allowed Bumblebee to recharge with them, because the sparkling appeared to be the one that needed the most emotional support. He cried easily, so Megatron and Optimus had to be on-hand frequently to reassure the sparkling that he was safe.

Ironhide was one of their tougher sparklings. The black youngling enjoyed hand-to-hand combat with Bulkhead and Breakdown whenever he got the chance – whenever both his foster creators were out of the room, he would show off his agility and sure-footedness by choosing an adequate climbing frame and scaling it. He was always caught, of course, and given a scolding, but the sparkling did not appear to be repentant. Megatron could foresee Ironhide working as a Weapons Specialist in the Iaconian military in the future, where his adopted Creation's talents would come in handy in defending the city.

Knock Out was the most matured out of all the sparklings. Able to solve simple quadratics at his amazingly young age, he was what other mechs referred to as a sparkling prodigy, and on some evenings Megatron allowed the youngling to crawl into his lap, and the foster creator would teach the sparkling complicated mathematics and schematics. Knock Out always listened attentively, and he would ask questions where it was deemed necessary.

Breakdown and Bulkhead were sparklings who were not fully mentally developed – it was only after adopting them did Optimus realize that they were Wrecker sparklings and had to be treated firmly, for Wreckers enjoyed – well, wrecking things. They often broke their toys, blocks, and everything that their foster creators bought for them to enjoy.

Ratchet was the sparkling who always listened to instructions – he had a knack for mending stuff together, just like how he fixed Knock Out's toys when they were broken in one of Bulkhead and Breakdown's weekly scuffles. Optimus had mentioned once or twice to Megatron that he could see Ratchet growing up to be a medic, or a physician at the very least.

"Sire, look!" Ratchet gestured to a plate, sitting conveniently in the middle of the table, displaying eight tantalizing, perfectly round, shapes of set batter. "Sire, try one, we made them by ourselves."

"By yourself? What, Creator didn't help you?" Megatron couldn't resist smiling at his adopted sparklings.

"Liar," Optimus pouted, pulling Bulkhead closer to his chassis and dusting flour off Bumblebee. "I did _everything. _You sat there and played with the flour."

All the sparklings chirped a giggle at that, and Megatron arched an optic ridge, still grinning. "Looks like there's one for each of us – we can clean up, and then try your pancakes."

Everybody scurried off, retrieving overturned pots and pans, and sweeping up bits of spilled batter and flour, cleaning up the kitchen as a family.

* * *

"Day one of thirty: the pancake mishap," Optimus murmured, sticking a photograph in the middle of the page of the scrapbook. The photo displayed the large family in all their sprawling glory: literally, sprawling. The picture had captured Optimus spread out on the floor, trying to regain his bearings as Breakdown, Bulkhead and Knock Out climbed all over his flour-covered frame. Bumblebee was gnawing on Megatron's foot, while the bigger Creator had his helm resting against the egg-splattered cupboard, Ironhide in one servo and Ratchet in the other, rolling his optics in an understandably frustrating manner.

The sparklings had all been put to berth – they now had the entire evening to themselves. More than enough time to finish completing their scrapbooking; then both mechs could spend the rest of the night cycle enjoying each other.

"Well, it wasn't everything we expected, was it?" Megatron was sitting on the edge of their shared berth, still trying to get the batter bits out of his grill. "By the way – your pancakes are amazing. We should really do that again sometimes. You know – I'll make the batter, you fry the pancakes, the sparklings add the syrup and other toppings…"

"You mean, _I'll _make the batter, _I'll _fry the pancakes, and _I'll _add the syrup while _you _and the sparklings act like complete lunatics who've never seen the inside of a kitchen before," Optimus grinned, his white dermal plates gleaming gently in the glow of the setting sun, Hadeen bathing them in golden light. Megatron took a glance over his shoulder plates to check that the door was well and truly locked before pouncing on his sparkmate eagerly, rolling off the bed in a playful manner with Optimus below his superstructure.

"I'm not done pasting the glow-in-the-dark animals around the page yet," his beautiful sparkmate complained, frowning as he pressed his body flush to Optimus'. Enjoying the Prime's struggling to get his mate off, Megatron silenced his bonded with a deep, passionate kiss, engines roaring and protoforms heating up to the point where their fans were practically whirring at full speed to get their core temperatures down.

Both wondered what adventures tomorrow would bring.

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**A/N: **How did that go? Please R&R! Ho ho ho this is like my Christmas present to you guys. Two chapters updated - the Sparklings story and The Bonds That Bind fanfiction too! :D Enjoy!


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